Found the Gold
by VictimOfCircumstance
Summary: Squall is given a prize stallion as a gift from his father, King Laguna – a stallion with a shining gold coat and intelligent jade eyes. It’s probably not a coincidence that an antagonistic green-eyed blond man shows up in his dreams that night. SxS AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Quite clearly not mine, or it would have reemerged in the public eye at least once since it first came out.**  
Summary: **Squall is given a prize stallion as a gift from his father, King Laguna – a stallion with a shining gold coat and intelligent jade eyes. It's probably not a coincidence that an antagonistic blond, green-eyed man shows up in his dreams that night. [Seifer x Squall, AU]**  
Pairings/Characters: **Seifer x Squall, Irvine x Selphie, Laguna, Zell, Biggs, Edea/Ultimecia, random cameos from the whole cast and crew.**  
Rating: **Eh. Whatever. Pretty tame, especially for now. I dunno. Cussing? Seifer probably cusses. He does that sometimes.  
**Author's Notes: **The only reason I'm publishing this is because it's Squally-boy's birthday and I needed to celebrate it in one way. There's a lot more of this written, but I make no guarantees about actually posting it or anything. I don't really know where it's going.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SQUALL.

**xxx**

"Squall, he's your father, and he's just trying to make you happy," Rinoa pleaded for Laguna's sake, jogging to keep up with Squall's quick stride.

Squall said nothing. It didn't matter – Rinoa knew him well enough to interpret what he was thinking.

"He didn't know you were alive, there's no way he could have known you lived in an orphanage for 13 years!" She protested. "You can't blame him for something that wasn't his fault."

"I don't." Squall said quietly. "But he should learn that buying me off with gifts is not going to make me a more loving son."

Rinoa sighed. "He's not _buying you off_, Squall, he's giving you stuff that he thinks you'll like. He wants you to be _happy_."

Squall ignored this, and she opened her mouth to keep going, so he was very thankful that they had just reached the gate of the paddock. He threw it open and swept inside, then stopped dead, almost stumbling over his own feet as he saw the present that Laguna had gotten him this time.

Six foot soldiers surrounded a huge rearing stallion, all of them working together with a complicated web of ropes in a struggle to keep his four feet on the ground. His coat was burnished gold, and his tail and mane were thick, lustrous ivory white. When they managed to bring him down again, scrambling to avoid his snapping teeth, Squall could see the brilliant jade of his eyes. He was _beautiful._

One of the soldiers was thrown across the paddock by the force of the stallion's thrashing, and Squall could see out of the corner of his eye that Laguna went to go help him up, eyebrows furrowed and lips white with tension. "Maybe this isn't such a good present for Squall," he could be heard mumbling, and Squall found himself reacting interestingly to that.

"No!" He protested, moving forward. "I want –"

Everyone looked up in surprise as he cut himself off; they'd never seen Squall act with such fervor before.

"Stop trying to control him," Squall told them all hotly, moving forward to drag them away from the still bucking horse. "If you give him space, he'll calm down."

Their expressions were skeptical, but at the Crown Prince's orders they backed away, keeping spears and swords before them to ward off the dangerous beast. Like Squall had predicted, the stallion slowly settled down, staring around at all of them with a wary eye. He shuffled back out of their weapons' range, backing himself into a corner.

"Rinoa," Laguna waved her forward. "Could you…?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, remembering her place. "Of course!"

Rinoa was well-known for being one of the best horse tamers in the kingdom. One whisper from her, and the wildest stallions would become as tame as the sweetest mare. She would call to them and they'd come running, and a stroke of her lovely hand down their muzzles would soothe the flightiest beast. But Squall had a strange feeling that it wouldn't work on this charger…

She moved forward, reaching out a hand slowly, and murmured, "There's a good boy. You're a pretty one, aren't you?"

Squall yanked her back just in time; the horse's teeth gnashed in the air right where her slender fingers had been only moments before. Her eyes opened wide, lips parting unconsciously. Clearly, her technique had never failed her before.

"He doesn't want to be patronized," Squall muttered in response to all their questioning looks. One glance at the horse's eyes made that clear. He was a proud being, much like Squall himself, and would accept nobody who treated him like anything less. This was a strong, dangerous beast, not some pathetic mare, and he just wanted to be acknowledged as one.

The stallion tossed his head smugly, as if he could understand what Squall said, and infer what Squall was thinking.

…Could he?

"I want to be alone with him." Squall demanded, wanting to pursue this topic further.

Laguna was visibly torn; on one hand, he always wanted to give Squall anything he possibly could, but leaving him alone with the vicious creature was a little much. Squall picked up on that quickly, though, so he looked to Rinoa, who compromised with, "Or how about me, Zell, Biggs, and Irvine stay with him?"

Laguna smiled halfheartedly and said, "Sure! C'mon, the rest of you, let's leave them alone. But Squall… be careful, okay?"

Squall nodded, not meaning it for a second. When everyone was gone except Rinoa and the three soldiers, Squall turned back to the stallion. "Irvine?" The brown-haired man was unusually perceptive about most things, and Squall wanted his acute observational skills focused on the mount.

"He's a smart one," Irvine said, an odd glint in his eye as he gazed at the stallion. "Smarter than he looks." He got snapped at for that one. "And gorgeous too," he quickly added. "He's quite handsome."

The stallion stopped snapping at him. Yes, Squall was quite sure now. This stallion could understand human speech. How interesting…

"His coat…" Rinoa cooed, "It's so luscious!" The horse seemed to be fine with that, but less so when she continued, "He's such a beautiful creature."

The stallion lunged forward toward her, but Squall managed to get in between them and shove Rinoa to the side in time. He spun around and slapped the horse's neck harshly, and the stallion was so startled that he pulled back without further trying to eat them. Good thing, too, because Squall knew that he wouldn't be able to withstand an attack from the larger, stronger creature.

"Stop that," he told both the stallion and Rinoa crossly. "Rinoa, stop calling him adjectives that apply to females. And you," he turned to glare down the horse. "Stop being so prideful and conceited about your looks. It's unbecoming."

The horse snorted and backed up again, returning to the corner where he apparently felt safest.

"Who'd he come from?" Squall asked Irvine, not taking his eyes from the stallion.

"Illegal horse trader," Irvine replied.

Zell continued, bouncing in place and watching the horse nervously, "Laguna shut the jackass down, but kept this monster for you. The rest of them weren't nearly as valuable."

"Squall, what are you –" Rinoa started sharply, but Squall had already taken advantage of the distraction Zell provided and crept up to the horse's flank. Before the stallion could shy away, Squall had swung up onto his bare back, gripping the reins tightly and waiting for him to do his worst.

It didn't disappoint.

The stallion reared instantly, then when Squall refused to be dislodged that way, started bucking with a violence generally unseen out of war founded from personal vendettas. He threw himself around the paddock, muscles straining and sweat flying in droplets, but Squall held on for his life. Finally, with one almighty heave, Squall was flung off and went flying through the air.

Rinoa screamed, and the three soldiers darted forward, but Squall twisted in the air and landed in a crouch like a miffed cat. He stood up and strode straight back to the stallion, ignoring the protestations of everyone present.

"Look," he scowled, tugging the horse's head down to meet his eyes and clamping his jaw shut with both hands. "I'm not going to try to break you in, or tame you, or make you prance around with braids and bows like some prissy mare, but I _will_ ride you. Understand?"

The stallion tore free of his grip and cantered away, stopping only when he was completely out of range. He danced from foot to foot, being flighty enough that Squall could tell he wasn't on board with that plan. Well, tough shit.

He threw himself at the horse, grabbing onto his bridle and jerking it down in anticipation. Sure enough, the horse reared again, front legs flailing about in the air right by the brunet's head. Squall ducked from side to side, avoiding the fatal blows that those hooves would provide, and yanked with all his might. The stallion finally calmed again, dropping so all four hooves were on the ground, though his feet still danced with nervous energy. The glare he sent Squall's way couldn't be described as anything but _defiant_.

This acquaintanceship was sure to be interesting.

Squall sighed, backing up to the fence to converse with the rest of the group, who had cleared out when he started his mad quest to ride the beast. They were now watching from a safe vantage point outside of the paddock.

"What kind is he?" Squall asked the group at large, gazing contemplatively at the metallic sheen of the stallion's golden coat and the purity of his ivory hair. It didn't seem natural, really.

"Well, I'm tempted to say gold champagne, for the coat and hair colors," Biggs said, cocking his head to the side and moving up to the edge of the fence to get a closer look. The soldier had grown up in the stables, and knew horse breeds as well as anyone in the kingdom, which is why Squall hadn't protested when Rinoa volunteered him to stay. "But gold champagne breeds traditionally have hazel eyes. Even though it's possible for a champagne to have green eyes, they're also marked by mottled, pink skin, and this mount has unmarked beige. Then there are palominos, which also have gold coats and white hair, but they have darker eyes and skin instead of the green eyes and pale skin shown on this one. Cremellos have lighter manes, true, but lighter coats to go with it, and blue eyes. Buckskins have gold coats but darker skin and hair, and any horse with cream coloring usually has brown eyes. Then–"

"So what is he?" Zell interrupted impatiently. Squall was thankful for that. He wasn't getting any information this way.

Biggs hesitated, then shrugged his apology. "I couldn't say. This particular coloring doesn't seem like it would be natural. Perhaps a genetic mutation?"

He had to leap back as the charger lunged to catch his vulnerable arm in those powerful jaws. Squall rolled his eyes. This was the touchiest stallion in existence.

"Well, how old is he?" Rinoa asked, resting her chin on her palm and her elbows on the fence.

Biggs paled. "Ah, my lady, the easiest way to tell a horse's age would be to examine his teeth. And…"

"Oh!" Rinoa made a face. "Don't worry about that."

The horse was _smirking_. Squall was sure of it.

Well, that would never do. Squall rolled up his sleeves and sidled up to the horse. "Squall, don't–" Rinoa shrieked, and Zell and Irvine both shouted "Get back!" as Biggs yelled "Your highness!"

He held his hands up to show that he wasn't up to anything, watching the flex of the horse's leg muscles while still keeping an eye out for those overeager teeth. "Cooperate and it'll be over quicker," he warned the horse, then caught his upper and lower jaws – one in each hand – and _pried_.

"Quick!" Zell shouted, shoving Biggs over, and the soldier appeared by his side to inspect the horse, trembling like a leaf. Meanwhile, Squall was sweating with the effort of keeping those teeth from fastening on his easily breakable fingers, muscles jolting and twitching under his skin.

The stallion tried to yank his head away, but Squall kept his grip long enough for Biggs to say "done!" and scramble to safety. Squall let go instantly, sprinting away before the horse could exact revenge on him. They clambered over the fence just in the nick of time as the charger stormed up behind them, barely missing them with his teeth audibly clacking in the air.

"Two, I'd say," Biggs gasped out, doubling over. "Which makes him about 19 in human years."

"That can't be right," Rinoa frowned, gazing over at the stallion. She knew a fair bit about horses herself, and this one couldn't possibly be younger than four. "He's fully matured, isn't he? He's not a colt, he's a stallion, I thought."

Biggs shook his head, still panting with exertion. "I wish I could explain it myself."

"You'd think a stallion wouldn't be so freaking self-absorbed and touchy about his looks," Zell grumbled, grinning cockily as the horse _glared_ at him. Squall wouldn't advise being so overconfident. Sure, Zell was out of range this time, but he'd bet that this charger could hold a grudge.

Squall unhurriedly climbed back over the fence, mindful that he didn't end up in a vulnerable position right when the horse struck. Behind him, he could hear Rinoa sighing at his stubborn, reckless nature. Because the steed _would_ strike. Not doing so wasn't really a possibility.

He dropped to the ground next to the stallion, vaguely annoyed as he noticed that his head lined up with the horse's chest. This was a huge beast. Good thing he had plenty of upper arm strength, or he'd never be able to hoist himself onto the creature's back.

Squall tentatively reached out to grasp the discarded reins hanging from the horse's neck, and while he was watched suspiciously, the stallion didn't move away or snap at him. Well, at least they were getting somewhere.

There was a ringing silence as he moved – like the whole world was holding its breath to observe the dynamic of the pair's relationship. Squall had a feeling that breaking the silence would mean ruining whatever mood the horse had gotten into – certainly not compliant, but not as openly antagonistic. He had settled down, along with all the humans, and there was a sort of lull as all their gazes were drawn to the leather cord gripped tight in Squall's hand.

Then the horse snorted and twitched his ears, and the mood was broken.

"If you want to be treated like an adult, you'd damn well better act like one," Squall told the horse, and a strange expression came over those jade eyes, right before he headbutted Squall and jerked free of his grasp again.

Well, apparently he didn't want to be treated like an adult.

"What's your name?" Squall called out, twisting and turning to keep up with the horse, who was now circling him in long loops. The horse tossed his head in an attempt to flick his forelock from his eyes.

Irvine watched this exchange speculatively. Squall was trying to talk to a horse, which would normally be clause to label him as certifiably crazy, but this horse had already showed signs of being able to understand them. So Irvine's earlier observations about how uncannily smart the horse was weren't entirely off-base…

Squall growled and called, "I'm tired of this bullshit. **What's your name**?"

The horse slowed to a stop, but stayed away, watching him warily.

"If you were trying to keep me from knowing that you could understand me, you did a fucking _terrible_ job of it," Squall shouted irritably, growing more annoyed by the second.

"Squall," Rinoa hissed from where she was standing on the other side of the fence near him. She was probably trying to get as close as possible without putting herself in direct danger. Smart girl. "He thinks you'll sell him to a magic show or something, where he'll be treated like some freak and abused and stuff."

Squall glanced over at the horse, who had his ears back. Now that Squall was trying, he could see badly hidden terror in his eyes. Ohh…

"The knowledge that you are capable of communicating with humans won't leave the five of us," Squall assured him quietly, gesturing around loosely to include the soldiers in his words.

The horse turned to them, and Irvine, Zell, and Biggs all nodded firmly in answer to his unspoken question.

"I swear it on my life," Squall said, approaching the horse slowly and meeting his eyes dead-on.

Whatever the stallion saw, he liked, because he finally took those few steps over to Squall, something like the equine version of a smirk on his face.

Squall hesitated noticeably. Well damn, now that he'd actually gotten the charger's cooperation, he didn't really know how to do this. Was he supposed to just start guessing names? Because really, that could take a while.

"You idiot, I'll do it," Rinoa said exasperatedly, interpreting his silence correctly. She hopped over the fence to join them. "The first letter. Stop me when I get there. A… B… C… D…" The horse shook his head each time, pure white forelock flying with every motion. Finally, when she got to _S_, he gave a loud whinny, indicating his approval. Rinoa smiled genially back at him and continued, "Second letter I'm guessing is a vowel. A… E…" A loud whinny. This continued until they had six letters, and he nodded jerkily to show that it was done.

"S-E-I-F-E-R…" Rinoa spelled out. "Seifer?"

Squall rolled his eyes as the horse snorted, clearly objecting.

"It's not Say-fur," Squall explained. "It's almost Sie-fur, but not quite. Seifer."

Irvine frowned at him as the three soldiers approached, making plenty of noise so Seifer would know that they were coming and not get spooked. "How do you know that?"

Squall shrugged. "I just do."

Was it supposed to be remarkable that he intuitively knew that with no explanation for it? It wasn't strange to him, and that didn't interest him in the slightest. Irvine and Rinoa were perplexed enough for the group, though.

"Seifer… It's not a very horsey name, is it?" Zell asked, peering curiously at the stallion.

"No…" Squall said thoughtfully. _It's not a very horsey name at all_. "I'm taking him out to the track to let him run and get some of this energy out."

He started off for the gate of the paddock, Seifer trailing behind him, even though Squall had no hold on his reins. They watched as Seifer nosed his muzzle onto the back of Squall's neck, and a few seconds later, Squall was glaring icily and saying, "If you snap your teeth at me one more time, I swear to Hyne I'll light your tail on fire."

Seifer butted his head against Squall's shoulder, almost knocking him down, and cantered ahead before Squall could retaliate.

"This is going to be an interesting acquaintanceship," Rinoa giggled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **Everything from chapter one still applies. I'm having fun with this one, people. Plus I actually thought of a plot! Like, with conflict and a climax and all! This is exciting!

**xxx**

Squall came into awareness flat on his back in a frozen, barren wasteland. He rolled to his feet and stretched, looking around with the barest of interest. His dreams always had the oddest settings. It generally depended on how deeply in thought he was before falling asleep. If he was languid and unfocused, his dreams would be hazy and indefinite. But if he was fiercely concentrated on any specific topic, his dreams would be sharp and distinct, with dynamic characters and crystal-clear settings. And considering how intently he'd been thinking about the strange new horse he'd gotten that day, his dreams would likely be entirely too lucid to be comforting.

This tundra wasn't entirely foreign to him, either. It was a common feature of his dreams, and it usually featured an ice queen so familiar he longed to drop to one knee and swear fealty to her.

He could sense footfalls behind him, which was new. Whenever Shiva came to visit him, she was preceded by a frost that crept up his skin and chilled him to the core. But these were undeniably footsteps, and he instinctively knew it wouldn't be his Ice Queen who visited him tonight.

He turned slowly and found a tall man standing there. A strikingly handsome tall man, with burnished golden hair and jade eyes, clad in a grey cloak. A long, threatening sword was strapped around his slim waist in a plain scabbard. Squall didn't even bother thinking about who he was, or how he knew him.

"Well hey there," the man smirked, tilting his head to the side. "How old are you, kid?"

"Eighteen," Squall answered shortly. Not that it was any business of this man's, but whatever.

"Is that so?" The blonde seemed to be thinking aloud as he ambled over to Squall, reaching out to grip his chin between two fingers. He tilted Squall's face back and forth, examining it with far more intrigue than Squall was accustomed to – or comfortable with. "You don't look a day older than 16… puberty boy."

Squall glared up at him. "Go talk to a tree," he huffed, smacking the man's wandering hand away from his face.

The man grinned, eyes wicked and oddly catlike, and unsheathed his sword, giving it a few lazy swings. "C'mon, let's do this. I want to test your skill, your lordship."

Squall's scowl deepened and he unsheathed his sword from where it had illogically appeared at his waist, wanting to prove himself to this aggressive man. He stretched, did a few passes with the sword, then beckoned with it wordlessly. The blonde gave a sharp grin and attacked.

They weaved around each other, occasionally striking out with blows that resounded with the clash of steel on steel. Their fight was fluid, their lunges and circling more like a choreographed dance than the deadly duel it was. It was odd, really, how perfectly their moves coincided. Squall's eyebrows knitted together as he considered it, but he couldn't focus too much on it, for much of his concentration was on the sharpened steel coming precariously close to his inadequately protected flesh.

The style of their fighting was strange as well, Squall realized. He had learned to swordfight double-handed, with both fists tightened on the grip, but Seifer wielded his own sword one-handed, using the other hand for balance and gestures. It shouldn't have worked nearly as well as it did. In addition to that, they were both swinging their blades in the wide arcs that Squall's fencing teacher had been working to drill out of him for years. The man always said that it seemed as though Squall was holding a different weapon than a sword, but he'd be damned if he knew what it was. But Seifer and Squall were swinging and twisting in equally broad motions, making this a true duel rather than the civilized fencing he did with courtiers at the palace.

They never lost their footing or made a wrong move, and their breath remained as even and steady as if they were taking a leisurely stroll through the gardens. This was most likely due to the fact that he was encased in a dream and not reality, of course, but Squall had a suspicion that it wouldn't have been drastically different had he actually been awake. The other man wasn't fighting with his full effort, seeming to take sufficient pleasure in their mock battle, and Squall held back accordingly.

He wondered absently who would win a battle between them if they actually had to fight for their lives, and found that he didn't truly wish to know the answer.

With one final clash that actually send sparks flying through the air, the blonde pulled back, groaning with disappointment. "Sorry, pretty boy, but I gotta run. Let's do this again sometime, alright?" He gave a lazy salute and started walking away, sheathing his sword and carding a hand through his hair to push the golden blond strands back into place.

"Wait," Squall called after the blond man.

He paused, but didn't turn.

"What's your name?" Squall asked, staring unblinkingly at the red cross emblazoned on the man's cloak.

Now he turned, just long enough to send a wink and a smirk in Squall's direction. "Oh, ice princess," he drawled affectionately. "You should know better than to ask questions you already know the answers to."

Then he disappeared into the surrounding tundra.

Squall stared after him for only a moment before scowling down at the ground. "Seifer…" he grumbled, only a bit annoyed.

**xxx**

Zell and Irvine strained under the weight of the heavy bags they were carrying, peering around the burlap to try and get a better view of their pathway. They barely maneuvered around a peddler's cart in time, and it took a quick rescue from Rinoa to keep Zell from falling over backwards as his sack snagged on an overhead branch, but the walk was generally painless. Rinoa herself was only toting a light bag, while Squall, their silent leader, hefted an equally bulky sack with considerably less effort. Still, they made it to the stables without incident, where Zell and Irvine were told to dump their bags, and then they finished their journey by reaching the pasture where Seifer was being held.

Squall pouted the whole way. He was still under orders from Laguna that he wasn't allowed to be around Seifer without at least two soldiers and a certified healer. Of course, he'd picked his friends, but still. It was the principle of that matter. He was going to be fine around Seifer. The massive, violent horse wasn't that dangerous. Okay, well, yes, he was, but still. He wasn't a threat to Squall. Maybe. Whatever.

Squall dropped his bag unceremoniously on the ground, bringing his fingers to his mouth to give a piercing whistle. Across the pasture, Seifer's head picked up, then he wheeled around and cantered over to them, stretching his head over the fence to press his muzzle into Squall's head and bite playfully at his hair.

Squall pushed him off with a softer expression on his face than his normal glare. "Bastard," he muttered, bending over to unknot the rope tying the burlap sack shut.

"So what are we doing here, anyway?" Zell wondered aloud. "Can't he get all the exercise he needs in the pasture?"

"Biggs says he won't eat," Rinoa answered for the taciturn prince. "He's too snobby for grass, or something."

Seifer gave his customary horsey smirk.

"So what, Squall's gonna force-feed him barley or something?" Zell screwed up his face in confusion, trying to see what Squall was messing around with in the bag.

Squall's glare was back. "Just watch," he ordered, then pulled a handful of oats out of the bag. He held it up under Seifer's nose. The horse took one look at it and blew a huge lungful of air at it, sending it whooshing through the air in a miniature hurricane. Squall had managed to shut his eyes in time to keep out the oat-dust, but it still coated his face and hair, making him sneeze, which sent the few oats that remained in his hands scattering.

Rinoa giggled, while Zell and Irvine fought to keep straight faces.

"Alright, so we're doing this the hard way," Squall glared, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. "I'm not going to try to trick you into eating it by mixing it with sugar or anything, but I will say this. You eat this, or you don't eat anything."

Seifer bent his head and began gnawing contentedly on Squall's shirt.

Squall went cross-eyed staring at him in bafflement.

Irvine and Zell guffawed, matching Rinoa's cascades of laughter. "Oh Squall, your _face_," she wheezed, and Squall hurriedly composed his features, yanking out of Seifer's grip.

"Stop being so stubborn," Squall sighed. "Even humans eat this. If need be, I _will_ force-feed you."

That didn't work very well.

Fifteen minutes later, Squall was sweating and cussing and glaring, totally lost on what he should do next. He couldn't force-feed the stallion because no one was willing to stick their hand in his mouth and drop in oats while he held the jaws apart, but Seifer wouldn't eat on his own. Rinoa and Zell and Irvine were being totally unhelpful the whole time, of course, just standing back and watching as shit went down, and sometimes laughing at his pain. Seifer definitely thought it was funny, as he kept huffing and snorting every time Squall fell over from his bucking or couldn't make it away in time to keep from being bitten.

"You're going the wrong direction with this, boy," Irvine finally contributed. When Squall looked at him with a question in his eyes, he continued, "Remember when you first saw him, and you told us to stop trying to control him? You can't make him do anything. He's too stubborn for that. You have to give him the choice."

Seifer shuffled back.

Squall stared sharply at him, trying to read his features and emotions. That didn't work very well, seeing as he was a _horse_. But still, Squall could guess that he was embarrassed. Seifer didn't like being read so easily, that Irvine could tell his inner desires without even asking him. He felt too vulnerable for it. And Squall could definitely relate to that.

So he stood up and gestured for the bag Rinoa had brought. He dug into it, producing an apple, and then grabbed a nearby bowl and dipped it into the oat sack. He approached Seifer slowly, but not patronizingly, and held the pair out. "Here," he said gruffly. "Eat them both. They're good for you."

Seifer's eyes took on a speculative gleam, and he stepped lightly back over to Squall. After a long pause, he ducked his head and began eating from the oat bowl, polishing it off in scant minutes. Then he swung his head up so that his muzzle hit the back of Squall's outstretched hand hard, sending the apple flying into the air. The stallion reared back on his hind legs to catch the apple in his mouth, then dropped back onto all fours, crunching at it happily.

They all stared.

"That was so cool," Zell whispered, and the rest of them nodded in agreement.

All in all, the process of subtly domesticating Seifer was off to a good start.

They stayed in the pasture all day, with the saner ones among them keeping a healthy distance away from Seifer as Squall repeatedly attempted to get on his back. As expected, it didn't work. Still, even though he was bucked or reared off every time, he always got back on, and he got the idea Seifer was beginning to respect him for it. After a while, of course, Seifer learned a different tactic. As soon as Squall managed to scramble onto his back, he just… buckled over. He dropped to his knees and lay down, rolling over languidly so Squall had to leap off to the sound of his friends laughter.

Seifer snorted.

Squall sighed, giving up for the time being. "Whatever," he mumbled, joining his friends at the fence. They broke out the wrapped-up food that Edea had packed for them, contentedly watching the horses milling around in their respective pastures. Seifer was the prettiest, or at least the most striking, but seeing them all moving with their casual grace was a beautiful sight.

"You know what I wonder?" Rinoa asked suddenly, getting the attention of both the humans and the horse nearby. "Is Seifer a human turned into a horse, or just a horse that is able to communicate with humans?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Irvine suggested, and she readily complied. He seemed to indicate that he'd been human at one point, which made Squall frown. He didn't doubt that the teen he'd dueled in his dreams the night before was the real Seifer, but he hadn't actually thought about why Seifer was a horse in real life and not in that dream-world.

Had he been changed by a vindictive sorceress? A curse? He hadn't thought to ask while they were facing off, but if Seifer ever wanted to be changed back, they would need to discuss it at some point. Was there a way to get Seifer back? And did Squall even want Seifer to be changed back? He'd be an incredibly arrogant, aggressive human, Squall could tell that already, and he didn't need any of those in his life. Seifer was better off as a horse, really.

"Seifer, do you want to be changed back?" Rinoa asked, and Squall tuned into the conversation to listen. It may be important.

Seifer nodded instantly, showing no hesitation in his response. So he was unhappy with his current lot in life, then. He was remarkably good-natured about it, if so, even if he did act violently anytime he was treated as an inferior or as property.

Through further questioning (it took a pathetically long time for Zell and Rinoa to adjust to the yes-or-no question format, which was annoying), it came out that Seifer had been changed only two years before, and that he aged in consideration to his human form and not as a horse. What that meant for his future, none of them could say. Anytime any of them asked a question about why he had been changed or who did it, he would shut down entirely, shuffling away until they beckoned him back with more lighthearted inquiries. And he'd never let them even hint towards telling anyone else about his transformation in order to get help; for whatever reasons, he only wanted them to know about the magic that had changed him.

Still, he was amicable enough, and he answered their questions patiently, only getting agitated when they pondered aloud about the cause of his current situation. He didn't have a mother and father, but he'd been reared as a nobleman in a relatively wealthy household. He was just as proud as he'd seemed from the very beginning, and he strove to be independent even if he didn't quite succeed. Squall could respect him for that.

Eventually, the conversation stopped being an interrogation as much as light banter and musing. Seifer drifted away, uninterested now that he was no longer able to respond to their comments, giving Rinoa the change to wonder, "What do you think Seifer looks like as a human?"

Squall stayed silent. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell them all about seeing Seifer in his dream. It wasn't a fear that they wouldn't believe that it was the real Seifer and not just a manifestation of Squall's thoughts – well, mostly, although even Squall had a kernel of doubt about that one – but it just seemed private, what they'd done together. Plus, he didn't have much to tell them. He saw Seifer, they sparred, the end. Nothing interesting there. So he decided not to say anything.

"I think he'd be tall," Irvine said, gazing at Seifer speculatively as he spoke. "Blond hair, green eyes, same shades as his coat and eyes right now. And… crude. Not as refined as our princess over here." He jerked his head towards Squall unsubtly. The brunet scowled.

"I don't think crude is the right word," Rinoa protested. "Just… masculine. Chiseled."

Zell laughed, poking at Rinoa's belly. "You're getting a crush on a _horse_, Rin!"

She shrieked, indignant. "I am not!"

As she chased the short blond around trying to inflict deadly pain on his pressure points, Irvine turned to Squall and continued with the previous conversation. "He'd be expressive. You'd be able to read his features, sort of, except he'd hide his true emotions."

"He'd be angry," Squall said quietly. "Bitter. He'd have unfulfilled childhood hopes and dreams, and that would crush his spirit."

Irvine paused, then shook his head slowly. "I don't think anything could crush this one's spirit. He's a fighter. He'd just let it harden him, make him dangerous in an unstable way."

Squall turned his head to track Seifer's movements, and had to agree. The blonde he'd seen in his dreams the night before had been proud and relaxed, but he could sense a tension in him, a drive to prove himself. And if he had that drive crushed, there's no telling what he would do to gain people's respect and fear. But there wasn't much he could do about it right now, so it was kind of a moot point anyway. As a man, he may have been a formidable opponent, but as a horse, Squall could hold up an apple and he'd be putty in his hands.

Which was kind of cute, in a way, although it would be highly unwise to tell Seifer that. Squall valued his life.

**xxx**

"So, princess, is that hot piece of ass your girlfriend?" Seifer asked, slumping down next to Squall on the pier that was the current setting of his dream.

Squall stared at him wordlessly. So did that prove that the man in his dreams was the same entity as the horse, or not? He was tempted to say yes, but realized that his subconscious mind could easily have filled it in. Not until Seifer said something that Squall would never have considered about him would he truly believe that this man was the real Seifer. On the other hand, even if he did say something unexpected, there was no way to prove that it was the truth. Hyne dammit, this was fucked-up.

Seifer shoved at him with no noticeable frustration. "Hey, dreamer, I asked you a question. That black-haired chick. She your girlfriend? Fiancée? Wife?"

"No," Squall mumbled, smacking his hand away. "She's just a friend."

He scrutinized Seifer's face, searching for the truth in it. Seifer shifted uncomfortably, then set his face in an antagonistic sneer. "Stop staring at me, pansy. I'm not into that."

"How do I know you're real?" Squall said abruptly, ignoring Seifer's comments.

Seifer knitted his eyebrows, clearly blindsided. A few seconds later, he seemed to understand what Squall meant, and laughed. "You're worried that I'm just something your inner-mind made up? It's simple, kiddo. Sure, I can't say anything in your dreams about what I'd done as a horse, because your mind could just as easily have inserted it. But what I can do is tell you what I'll do as a horse in advance. There's no way you could predict it."

Squall's eyes widened. What a simple solution – and the blonde had thought of it so quickly. He clearly wasn't as 'brawns, not brain,' as he came off.

"So what I'll do is," Seifer continued, "Tomorrow, you bring the chickenwuss – you know, the short blond soldier –" he added at Squall's confused glance, "Down to my paddock, and the first thing I'll do is try to eat his hair."

Squall smiled, slightly. "Not good enough. That's the first thing you did when I showed up today, so my mind could just be making an educated guess."

"Fine, fine," Seifer sighed in a put-upon manner. "Uh, I'll let you sit on my back for fifteen seconds. Then I'll walk over and try to eat the chickenwuss' hair."

Squall's smile widened. "Alright."

Seifer smirked back.

"Say that you're telling the truth, and you really are the same Seifer as the horse I just got," Squall proposed, ignoring the way Seifer's eyes immediately narrowed at Squall referring to him as a possession. "How can you do this?"

"Do what?"

"Appear in my dreams like this," Squall scowled, not appreciating Seifer's purposeful obtuseness. "Only magic-users should be able to do that. Are you –"

"No." Seifer interrupted firmly. "I'm not a sorcerer."

Squall frowned. "There are other types of magic-users than sorcerers."

"Well, I'm not one," Seifer snapped, standing up with a tension in his shoulders that Squall couldn't have missed if he were blind and deaf. "So leave it alone."

"You need to improve your bluffing skills," Squall commented dryly, but backed off. So Seifer had some sort of dark and twisted past involving magic-users in some way, and he didn't want to be reminded of it. Alternatively, he was hiding some terrible secret about his own magical abilities that he didn't want Squall to know. Either way, it wasn't his business, and he would rather not get caught up in the drama of it. So Squall drummed his fingertips on his scabbard and arched an eyebrow – words didn't really need to be said for his question to come across: _want to spar?_

In reply, Seifer unsheathed his sword and grinned sharply. The game was on.

**xxx**

Zell squawked like an angry hen when Seifer chomped down on his hair, and Squall was smiling even as he was launched from Seifer's back after the 15 seconds were up.

Alright, so now he understood why Seifer called Zell 'chickenwuss.'


End file.
